


Making Amends

by Charity_Angel



Series: Cheating [6]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Anal Fisting, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charity_Angel/pseuds/Charity_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ianto is brassed off, Jack is confused and Tosh is clever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [badly_knitted](http://badly-knitted.livejournal.com/) over on LJ (who I am sure has an AO3 account too), as a result of an accidental prompt.

Jack was getting frustrated. Not since he had landed in the nineteenth century had anyone shown an immunity to his pheromones. Not that Ianto was actually immune; he just knew how to cope with being around them, and how to limit their effects on him. Not even Jack’s wife, or Estelle had figured that out.

Granted, Ianto normally employed his powers for good, to completely overwhelm Jack and take control in the bedroom. This was something that Jack approved of. A lot, if truth be told. Currently, however, Jack was getting the cold shoulder. He wasn’t precisely sure what he had done to deserve such treatment, and Tosh wasn’t telling either. Normally he could rely on Tosh for such things, because Ianto always went to her with his problems, but this time she had been short with him:

“If you don’t know, then perhaps you don’t deserve him.”

He had stopped asking her at that point. He also didn’t want to push Ianto, because he hadn’t been relegated to the decaf just yet, and he was canny enough about his caffeine addiction to realise that it would be a very bad thing indeed. Sometimes he wondered if Ianto had deliberately gotten them all hooked just so that he could pull the decaf punishment out. Then he remembered that he had been an addict long before Ianto had come into his life, just that he had always visited one of the coffee chains on the Quay. Starbucks, Costa and Caffé Nero had all lost valuable customers in Torchwood (depending on who was buying) the day Ianto Jones had joined the team. He knew he hadn’t forgotten Ianto’s birthday (because he had some very vivid memories of being unwrapped and played with that night), and he had given Ianto plenty of space to brood on the anniversary of the Battle of Canary Wharf. He was sure Ianto knew the date they had first slept together, but was also pretty sure that it wasn’t classed as an anniversary because of the circumstances. Ah…

Fuck. Two days ago had been the anniversary of the day the Cyberman had terrorised Torchwood Three. The day Ianto probably still considered to be the one Lisa died, even though he would vehemently deny it. The anniversary of the day Jack had pointed a gun at Ianto’s head, and meant it. The day Ianto’s poor decisions had gotten two innocent people killed.

Jack knew he was a complete arse on occasions. This was one of them, but he hadn’t done it on purpose: he genuinely hadn’t realised. Perhaps that did make him an arse, simply _because_ he hadn’t realised. Instead, he had tried to seduce Ianto that night, talk him into bed before the others had even left for the night. In fact, as he recalled, he had proposed that they start there and then, in Jack’s glass-walled office, with Ianto bent over the desk. No wonder he had reacted the way he had, him and his eidetic memory. How had Jack not even noticed how off Ianto had been that day? Thinking back, it was obvious; he had been quiet, ruthlessly efficient, buried in OCD overdrive. Jack knew, he _knew_ that was a sign that something was not right with his lover, when Ianto’s normally adorable obsessive-compulsive tendencies got the better of him and he turned into a total neat-freak.

There was only one person to talk to.    

.oOo.

“Is it even possible to make it up to him this time?”

Tosh didn’t even look up from her work. “So you’ve worked it out? No, probably not.”

“Tosh?”

The tiny, pathetic little whine, the plea in Jack’s voice caught her attention more than any actual words could have done. She turned to find him looking genuinely contrite, and she knew him well enough to know that it was because he had unintentionally hurt the man he loved rather than he wasn’t getting laid because of it. She sighed and took her glasses off, placing them beside her computer carefully.

“I’m not the one you should be talking to,” she said, a lot more compassionately than before.

Jack shrugged helplessly. Tosh realised why he had come to her instead, to try and make peace with Ianto: she could smell the spicy tang of his pheromones in the air. Ianto had been very forthcoming about the topic of Jack’s pheromones, and was aware that he generally had at least some control over how potent they were, but that control could be lost. She appreciated the fact that Jack had always been careful around her, given her past, so that she wouldn’t get swept up in the lust that Ianto had described to her. It meant, though, that she didn’t have a lot of resistance to them.

Bless him, he seemed to realise that, and backed off.

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head to clear it, and adopted Ianto’s trick of breathing through her mouth to lessen the effect. “It’s not your fault. I know it’s not really considered to be romantic, but have you thought about texting him, or calling him to talk it over? Ianto knows you well enough that he’ll realise why you sometimes want to talk that way.”

He looked embarrassed. “We’re not really good at talking.”

She smiled indulgently. “Maybe he’ll appreciate the effort of you trying even more, then.”

.oOo.

_‘I’m sorry. Can we talk? I’ll phone you.’_

Ianto wasn’t quite sure what to make of the text. Jack never apologised unless he meant it, so he had at least realised what he had done to deserve the last two days of enforced abstinence. Ianto knew that was hard on him; Jack thrived on even just a simple touch, and Ianto had denied him everything, had avoided even being in the same room as him. Jack had slept on the couch the first night, and last night had gotten the hint and stayed at the Hub.

Ianto didn’t enjoy this any more than Jack did, but Jack sometimes forgot about real things, things that mattered to Ianto. Things that hurt Ianto. For such a sexual being, he really was quite rubbish at being in an actual relationship. If that was indeed what they had. Tosh seemed to think so, but Ianto couldn’t define it (even if Jack sleeping on the couch was scarily domestic). It had only been a year since Lisa, and Ianto had woken up that morning feeling guilty that he had moved on so quickly, that he was happy in someone else’s bed. And he was. Ianto had long-since realised that he had been fooling himself about sex with Jack only being about distracting him from Lisa; even with Jack’s pheromones, he had loved every single moment of being with Jack, had hated himself for loving it for too long. Jack had always made him feel special, cared for. Even in the days immediately after Lisa, Jack had taken care of him, had even tried to convince Ianto that sex wasn’t a good idea. He tried to be a better man, he really did. Perhaps Ianto should let him.

The phone in his hand rang, displaying Jack’s name. Ianto didn’t hesitate to answer it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack has some serious grovelling to do, and Ianto is on the receiving end.

Ianto afforded a glace in Tosh’s direction as he passed through the main Hub to Jack’s office. He held his phone up and she smiled, a little hint of a question behind it. He nodded and gave her a slight smile, just enough to let her know that he was grateful, but Jack wasn’t completely forgiven. Yet.

Jack let him sit down on the sofa before speaking. “I really am sorry. I honestly hadn’t realised the date.”

Ianto sighed, getting a nose-full of full-on pheromones as he did so. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Mouth-breathing it was.

“I know. Some of what I was feeling wasn’t your fault,” Ianto admitted. “I wish you had realised how much I was hurting, though.”

“Me too.”

Jack’s contrite response and apologetic expression swayed Ianto.

“I promise I’ll try harder.”

That was exactly what Ianto wanted to hear. If Jack was willing to at least try and change for him, that was excellent progress. He had no delusions, knew that Jack would still live like a slob if Ianto weren’t around, would still flirt with anything that caught his fancy, but to try and be more attentive was wonderful.

Ianto held out a hand invitingly. Jack was unusually hesitant about accepting, forcing Ianto to get up, to pull his handsome captain towards him and offer a peace-making, gentle kiss.

.oOo.

Once Ianto had initiated the kiss and made it clear that Jack could be forgiven, he wasted little time. He pulled Ianto tightly to his body, moulding the two of them together and swept his tongue over Ianto’s bottom lip, seeking entry. Ianto allowed it, and their kiss deepened, telling each other what they would never say aloud. Hands found their way into hair, holding them together, hoping the moment would never end.

Ianto’s pupils were completely blown by the time they finally parted. His hair was a mess, his shirt and tie rumpled, his waistcoat no longer lying neatly. The best thing about Ianto’s suits, in Jack’s opinion, was the effort he had to put into getting Ianto _out_ of them. That and how well the trousers emphasised his perfect arse. Those trousers were straining at the front, and Jack’s mouth watered at the prospect of what lay trapped beneath the beautiful, soft fabric.

He dropped to his knees and deftly undid Ianto’s belt and fly, pulling briefs gently down and setting Ianto’s cock free. Ianto didn’t make a sound, and for a moment, Jack worried that they had kissed for too long, that Ianto was too far under the spell of the occasionally cursed pheromones. He worried until Ianto looked down, an unimpressed expression marring his lovely face.

“What are you waiting for? Permission?” At least Ianto sounded vaguely amused, taking the sting out of his scowl.

“I thought…”

He trailed off, and Ianto laughed. “You picked a hell of a bad time to start doing that.”

Jack silently agreed with this, and returned his attention to the glorious piece of male anatomy before him. As he worked Ianto’s trousers and underwear down a little more, he swirled his tongue around the tip, savouring Ianto’s unique flavour and smiling as his gorgeous Welshman swore vehemently. Encouraged, he went to work, lavishing upon Ianto all the attention he deserved. Hands joined his talented mouth, caressing Ianto’s bare butt, fingers sliding tantalisingly into the crack as he simultaneously pressed the tip of his tongue into the cleft of Ianto’s cock. Ianto shuddered, his knees buckled and he fell onto the sofa. His cock was pulled from Jack’s mouth with an obscene popping sound.

Oh, apparently Jack _hadn’t_ shown him everything, after all. It was nice to know that there were still some surprises he could pull out for special occasions.

“Fucking _hell_ , Jack!”

Jack grinned and scooted forwards. “You like that?” he asked innocently. Ianto’s eyes were black, and his cock was weeping so much Jack was surprised he hadn’t actually come. Hmm, he needed to slow the pace down if this was going to be as spectacular as he wanted it to be.

Ianto grabbed his shirt and pulled him upwards for a searing, bruising kiss. Jack was quite happy for Ianto to take the lead, to dictate precisely what he wanted from this. But from the rapid pace of Ianto’s breathing, precision may not factor into the equation at all.

“On your knees, Mr Jones,” he barked, and Ianto scrambled to obey, turning around and kneeling on the floor, his arms and head resting on the sofa. Jack sank down behind him.

“Well done,” he said, his hands kneading Ianto’s cheeks, his thumbs slipping between, teasing Ianto’s hole. Beneath his hands, Ianto wriggled, pressing himself backwards, begging wordlessly for more. Jack obliged, spreading Ianto open and pressing his mouth to the exposed opening. He licked a stripe over the hole, revelling in feeling it open. Oh, Ianto was so, so ready for this.

Jack sucked on a finger and slid it effortlessly into Ianto, thrusting it lazily as he leaned over Ianto’s prone body.

“I want you to come just from my mouth on you,” Jack whispered into Ianto’s ear. “Do you think you can do that?”

Ianto whimpered and nodded.

Jack pressed a kiss to his neck before resuming his former position. The finger was removed, but before Ianto could protest, Jack circled his opening with the tip of his tongue. Ianto let out a keening cry, filled with need, and Jack was glad, not for the first time, that his office was at least mostly soundproof. He didn’t mind if the others knew what they were doing, but he knew that Ianto was different, raised with a set of morals that told him to keep sex behind closed doors.

This was actually something beyond Jack’s area of expertise: only once before had a man come while Jack rimmed him (and he preferred not to think about John at all if possible), so while the actual act itself was something he really enjoyed, and was extremely familiar with, he hadn’t ever purposefully taken it to completion. He needn’t have worried: Ianto was so turned on, so in tune with him, that the enthusiastic teasing, licking and prodding of Ianto’s hole brought him off within minutes, Jack’s name spilling from Ianto’s lips as his entire body shook with the force of his orgasm.

.oOo.

Ianto came back to Earth slowly. As awareness returned, his first thought was that he was going to have to clean come off the couch again, but a deep groan from Jack drew his attention. Just off to the side, within Ianto’s eye line (deliberately, he was sure), Jack was trouser-less, lying on his side and leisurely thrusting three long fingers into himself. The lube was lying discarded in front of him, an open invitation.

Not trusting his legs to support him yet, Ianto crawled over, cradled Jack’s head in his hands and kissed him deeply. He had long-since gotten over his aversion to being kissed immediately after a rim-job, reasoning that it was no different, really, to kissing Jack after a blow-job, or rimming Jack himself. He adored tasting himself on Jack’s lips, and it sent the blood rushing back to his cock. Ianto would never understand how Jack somehow gave him the refractory time of a teenager, and he really didn’t care. As long as the sex was this good, he would never care.

Jack stopped his actions at a simple touch from Ianto and he broke off the kiss.

“Allow me.”

Ianto picked up the lube and slathered it over his right hand. They both knew that Jack didn’t need much in the way of preparation for sex; nowhere near as much as Ianto thanks to the generic engineers who would spend the next three millennia trying to beat evolution at its own game, but Ianto still liked to do it because Jack enjoyed the process so much. He didn’t bother with the usual build-up to three – his fingers were slighter than Jack’s, and it was obvious that Jack was already there.

He encouraged Jack to roll onto his back, and knelt between his knees, one hand building up a steady rhythm inside Jack, sweeping over his prostate tantalisingly. Jack’s thick cock was standing proud, weeping. Ianto pressed a feather-light kiss to the tip, making Jack’s hips cant upwards. He chuckled, took it in his left hand and proceeded to press kisses to the underside, along the thick vein until he reached the root. Just there, where cock met balls, he nipped with his teeth very, very gently, something that was guaranteed to get Jack babbling in the language of his home world. Ianto loved the lyrical quality of the words, even though he knew he would never understand their meaning.

Feeling Jack relax more at the sensation, Ianto experimentally added his pinkie into the mix. Jack bore down encouragingly and gasped “More.” Ianto hesitated, uncertain.

“You won’t hurt me,” Jack assured him, somewhat breathlessly. “Just do it.”

It was a night of going with the flow, Ianto mused as he tucked his thumb in and pushed tentatively upwards. Jack groaned in pleasure as he took all five fingers, pressing back encouragingly. Ianto’s eyes widened as his knuckles disappeared into Jack’s body. Jack’s breath caught in his throat.

“Yes,” he hissed.

Ianto couldn’t believe Jack was enjoying this – it looked so painful, so unnatural. He tried to work his way around it in his mind by recalling that Jack was from another time, but since he knew the name for the act, it had to exist here and now. Other people also enjoyed this. The mind boggled.

Jack’s eyes had closed, sweat was beading on his perfect, unmarked skin. His cock was throbbing in time to the heartbeat Ianto could clearly feel. He wasn’t going to last, and Ianto wanted to be inside him when he came. Clumsily, he grabbed for the lube left-handed and smeared some onto his aching cock. He pulled his hand from Jack’s body and with one smooth thrust, seated himself firmly inside Jack. Jack’s eyes flew open, and he gave Ianto the most dazzling smile, not his normal, seductive grin but the one reserved just for the bedroom, just for him. It was that smile that told Ianto that not only would he be forgiven anything, but that he would also forgive Jack anything.


	3. Epilogue

Tosh was feeling quite light-hearted when she returned to the Hub after the take-away run. While Gwen or Owen would complain, she was quite happy to take over when Ianto was ‘otherwise occupied’ repairing his relationship with Jack. They didn’t get any time outside of work, so things like that sometimes _did_ have to encroach into work time. She handed the bags over to Ianto, who awarded her a shy smile. He blushed when she reached up and rearranged his hair into something that didn’t look as if he’d just had some spectacular sex.

“Thank you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Any time.”

She left Ianto to the service itself; he didn’t like people, even her, playing in his kitchen. Jack walked from his office to the Board Room a little gingerly, which made Tosh smile even more. Neither Gwen nor Owen would believe that Ianto was more often than not the one to ‘top’, that Jack liked handing over the reins when he didn’t have to be in charge. He and Ianto were actually very good for each other, because Ianto had become a lot more confident after Jack had started submitting in the bedroom.

Reaching her desk, Tosh found a steaming cup of Ianto’s best coffee, along with a small box of her favourite chocolates and a note saying ‘Thank you’ in Jack’s beautiful, copperplate handwriting.


End file.
